Deep Freeze (West Coast 1)

No response. The house was empty.

All the anxiety she’d experienced in the last two days gelled. Fear knotted her stomach. Hadn’t she sensed something wasn’t right? Hadn’t she felt as if she was being watched, even followed? And now the girls…oh, God.

Get a grip, Jenna. They’re here. Somewhere. Keep searching.

A truck’s engine caught her attention and she felt a second’s relief. Obviously they had left with someone, that was it, and whoever it was—probably Josh—was returning them. Cassie had probably thought they could come and go before Jenna returned and they would never be caught. They’d taken Allie along so she wouldn’t blab.

And the dog? Why Critter? She was already hurrying outside.

Probably Cassie’s doing, she thought, but then realized the truck plowing through the open gate didn’t belong to Josh Sykes. She hurried outside as the big rig parked near the garage and a tall man climbed from behind the wheel. Harrison Brennan emerged from the passenger side. One side of his mouth lifted at the sight of her.

“Do you have the girls with you?” she asked breathlessly.

“No.”

“Have you seen them?”

Harrison glanced over her shoulder and his smile was suddenly perplexed. “You’re kidding, right?”

Then she knew. She heard the crunch of boots behind her and felt like a fool, an overprotective idiot of a mother.

“Mom!” Allie’s voice called out, and she turned to find Cassie, Allie, and the dog, breaking a path through the snow from the stable. Allie started running, Critter bounding through the drifts behind her. “We were just checking on the horses.”

“Are they okay?”

“They’re fine,” Cassie said as if she were disgusted. “Hans left plenty of water for them, but The Runt was worried.”

From beneath the rim of her pink stocking cap, Allie shot her sister a warning glare. “Hans told me to check!”

“He only left two hours ago!”

“Hey, it’s all right.” Jenna felt like a fool. She should have seen her daughters’ tracks leading to the stable. What had she been thinking? Why was she so on edge? “Sorry,” she said to Harrison.

“No problem. This is Seth Whitaker.” He indicated the tall man next to him. “Jenna Hughes.”

“Glad to meet you,” she said and shook his gloved hand.

“Seth’s been over at my place working on my furnace and I twisted his arm to come down and check out your pump.”

“Great.” Jenna flashed him a smile. “So you’re an electrician?”

Harrison said, “And plumber and regular handyman. A jack of all trades.”

“And master of none,” the guy said. He was pleasant-looking, a couple of inches taller than Harrison and a bit thicker around the middle. Harrison prided himself in keeping his body in strict military shape, his short, silvery hair not much longer than when he’d been with the Air Force.

“Between the two of us, we should be able to fix things,” Harrison said.

“That would be great,” she said. “Hans thinks it’s faulty wiring in the pump house,” she said, pointing in the direction of the small outbuilding.

“I know where it is.” Harrison turned to Seth. “It’s not locked.”

“I’ll get my tools.” The taller man walked to the back of the truck and opened the canopy doors while Jenna stared at Harrison.

“How did you know I don’t lock it?”

“Because I know you. You don’t lock anything but your doors, your garage, and the front gate, and that’s iffy.” He scowled slightly. “I wish you would take more precautio

ns. I worry about you.” He glanced at the house. “And the girls.”